Most people thought that the big Federal house on the edge of old town was some sort of historical landmark. Yet anybody who looked closely would see the telltale touches of modernity, the satellite dish, the telephone lines, which put the lie to that story. No matter its true nature, it was a nice house, old as the town itself but impeccably clean and well-maintained. Most of the year, it stood abandoned, dark shuttered windows staring blankly out over the street. Every so often, a van would pull up and disgorge a crew of maids or gardeners but other than that it was silent and empty.

No one else ever tried to enter the house. Not in recent history. Even the homeless had learned to avoid it. They all knew about the disappearances.

Which was why, when the limousine pulled up to curb in front of it, the scant few people about at that late hour of night the all stopped and stared. And when the passenger emerged from its darkened recesses, they stared even harder. He was absolutely gorgeous. Not only that but everything about him, from his haircut to his shoes, subtly whispered of money in the way that only true wealth can manage.

Leviticus Harmon felt vaguely annoyed by all the humans gawking at him. He could practically feel their vacant gazes brush over him like feelers of insects. It was revolting but he brushed a speck of dust from his suit and put them from his him. He had a better class of being to deal with. That thought made him smile. Mystic Falls may have become tragically overrun by humans in the past couple centuries but the people here had always been an interesting sort. It was no New Orleans but he would make due for now.

Besides, he thought as he locked the door and went inside, I've always liked this house. It was one of his older properties in the States and there was something pleasingly nostalgic about that. He inhaled deeply. The house smelled of nothing which meant the cleaning crew hadn't been incompetent, a pleasing change of pace when dealing with humans. For all that the trip had been enjoyable so far, Leviticus was not here for fun. The constant weight of the briefcase in his hand reminded him of that. If Leviticus was being honest with himself, however, he never quite grasped the concept of separating business from pleasure.

Leviticus Harmon settled himself in a soft leather couch and pulled out his cellphone. A few hours and a few choice calls later everyone who was anyone in the Mystic Fall vampire community knew that the Blood Salesman was back in town.